


Angel Kisses

by SazzyLJ



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, Discord: HMS Harmony, F/M, Law Enforcement, Minor Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:36:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28316127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SazzyLJ/pseuds/SazzyLJ
Summary: Remnants of the Death Eaters are using magic to augment muggle party drugs into a dangerous and addictive substance call Angel Kisses. After weeks without a lead, Harry and Hermione give up their Christmas Eve plans to follow up on new information.  Will this just be another false lead or will they find what they really need in time for Christmas?
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 40
Collections: Christmas With Harmony 2020





	Angel Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure that this is really what the Merry Rantmas challenge had in mind, but it's what came out when I sat down at the keyboard.

December 24, 2005

The modest navy sedan gleamed in the beam of the street lamp opposite Number 9 Grimmauld Place. Despite his warming charm, Harry shivered as the light rain dripped from his hair and down his collar. He grabbed the passenger door handle and quickly let himself into the car.

Hermione frowned grumpily from the driver’s seat. “Ugh, you’re getting my upholstery wet,” she announced with disgust. She wrinkled her nose and pursed her full lips as she looked over at him. With her tightly braided hair, black jumper and black slacks, she looked severe and irritable, but he knew he was not really the target.

“Well, you’re the one that parked so far from the house,” he snipped back without any real anger. He settled his warm shopping bag on the floor and planted his feet on either side of it. Quickly, he cast a drying charm on his back, pants, and the seat beneath him. 

“Humph,” she grunted as she put the car into gear and pulled away. “You know full well that I can’t park in front of a house that appears to not exist. You’re lucky you get so little muggle attention as it is.”

He leaned his newly dry head back against the seat and offered an olive branch. “I do appreciate you coming to get me.” He chuckled, “When Kreacher found out you were going to be with me, he packed a thermos of coffee and those biscuits you like. I swear, he’s determined to dote on you.” He left out the obvious disappointment his house elf had shown when he realized that they were not going out on a date.

She smiled, “That was kind of him.” Despite the near instant improvement in her mood, he could tell that she was still too absorbed in her own head.

“So,” he deliberately drawled the word to tease her. “What made you decide to give up your Christmas Eve at the last minute?”

Aside from a quick side glance, she kept her eyes on the road. “Honestly, Harry. This is the first lead we’ve had on the Angel Kisses ring in three weeks. You know that it’s only a matter of time before we get another overdose. Next time we may not be lucky enough for them to go to a hospital with a St. Mungo’s liaison.”

“Ah, but that only explains why **someone** on the task force needed to follow up,” he pointed out. “You pulled seniority in that meeting to be the one to go with me tonight.” He waited for her to reply, but she made a show of focusing on the road.

He sighed, “Come on, Hermione. Even with all the modifications you and Arthur have made to your car, we’ve got an hour’s drive to Whitstable. Are you really going to pretend that you’d rather check out a, likely false, lead on the case instead of spending time with your mum and dad?”

She let out a huff, and he knew he had won. “Fine, stubborn,” she shot him a quick glare, but there was no heat behind it. “A friend of my mum’s is throwing a party tonight. I tried to suggest that we just do something for lunch so that she and Dad could go, but her friend insisted on inviting me as well. Since I plainly didn’t have other plans, I felt as though I had little choice but to accept.” She sounded reluctant even talking about the party and pouted a little though he knew better than to point that out.

Instead, Harry chuckled under his breath. “Do you mean to tell me that you, The-Bane-of-Death-Eaters, took this lead so that you could avoid a little socializing with your parents’ friends?”

She snorted derisively, “You’re one to talk! Ever since Ron and Luna got engaged, you’ve taken any excuse to avoid meeting Molly on her own turf.” Her demeanor shifted slightly as she adapted Molly’s posture, “‘Harry, dear, you have to meet our new neighbors. They’ve got a lovely daughter that’s close to your age, and she’s been eager to hear all about you!’”

He laughed in appreciation of her impression, “You’re too good at that, you know?” When she only shook her head, he admitted, “We both know that, as far as Molly’s concerned, I’m the only one of her children not paired off. It was easier on me when her matchmaker focus was split a little more.”

“Well, you could always find a girl to take out,” she suggested. “If she thought you were making an effort on your own, she might give it a rest.”

“That’s what Ginny tells me. I know it worked for her with Seamus, but…” he sighed and shook his head. His last two attempts to date had been disastrous due to the secrets he had to keep. He preferred to focus on his lovely friend. “But you’re not getting off that easily. What’s so bad about a muggle Christmas Party?”

She sighed deeply, and he knew she would give in. “It’s… Imagine that you’re having to chat with someone that, because of their relationship with someone you love, you want to get on with, but all of the small talk topics are taboo.”

He suddenly felt his isolation from her experiences and world keenly. “I’m not sure I understand,” he admitted.

“Maybe I’m not explaining it well,” she offered. “Let’s try a bit of role play, like we did in MMLELO training.”

He laughed at the memories that suggestion brought forth. “Alright, can I be the muggle doctor this time?”

His question earned him a swat on the arm. “Prat! Just for that, I ought to volunteer you for working with the next batch of starry eyed Auror Academy grads that come through our next conference. I’ll list it as ‘A day with The-Vanquisher-of-Voldemort.’”

“Ugh,” he groaned at that. “Please! No! I’ll behave, I promise!” She grinned the way she always did when he let her win so quickly. _Probably why I do it,_ he thought. 

“See that you do,” she instructed primly. “Now, you’ll be me, and I’ll be my mum’s friend that’s hosting the party. You’ve only met her once. You know no one at the party but Mum and Dad, and she’s managed to corner you at the edge of the room.”

“All right,” he nodded. “Clear enough. Are you going to start?”

“Hermione, dear,” she adapted a slightly more posh version of her own accent. “So lovely to have you finally make one of my little get-togethers. Your mum and dad are such good friends that I’m embarrassed we haven’t gotten to know one another.”

His eyes widened at a gap in the scenario, “You didn’t tell me her name.”

“You know what I knew about her on New Year’s last year,” she replied tartly. “Do you want me to start again?”

“Oh,” he tried to jump back into his role as Hermione, but he knew better than to try any impressions. “I’m so glad that you invited me. It’s so kind of you.” He scrambled a little and hoped that was good enough.

It must have been because Hermione put back on her role. “Of course! Tell me, did you enjoy dinner? I know that my nephew can be quite the chatterbox, but he seemed to appreciate having someone his own age to talk to.”

Harry thought back to last New Year and realized that Hermione would have rushed to that party from Dolohov’s arrest. _Not something she could talk about._ “I didn’t mind,” he improvised. “Dinner was lovely, and I enjoyed the company.” He cringed a little at the weak reply.

“I’m so glad,” she replied. Suddenly, she fluttered one hand. “I hope you’ll forgive me. It’s embarrassing that I don’t know, but where did you go to school? I was trying to think of it earlier and realized that your mum never said.”

He knew to expect this one. _This was the first question they had us practice when MMLELO was created._ With confidence, he responded as he’d be taught, “Oh, it was a small private school up in Scotland. It’s a lovely region, but the winters are bit cold for my blood.” His answer was vague enough to keep the Statute, but specific enough to satisfy most casual conversations. He followed it up quickly with, “And you? Where did you go to school?”

“University of Plymouth,” she answer promptly. He suspected she was still quoting from the conversation that inspired this scenario. “At least, that’s were I did most of my studies. I qualified through St. Barts for Dental Surgery a few years ago. That’s when I met your mum.”

His mind went blank for a moment, _I suck at this sort of shallow stuff. Most everyone I talk to is either someone I work with or someone I’ve known for half my life._ He scrambled for a reply that would sound sincere. “It’s, uh, wonderful to have friends with so much in common. Do you get to work together at all?”

Hermione smirked, and he realized that his response must have been similar to her own. “I’ve consulted your mum on a few difficult cases, and your dad referred a rather complex extraction case to me earlier this year. What do you do, Hermione?”

And suddenly, he understood. “All right, I get it. Even something that should be simple, like where you work, is difficult to answer. Saying you work in law enforcement is too intriguing, and the answer to any question they ask after that is either subject to the Statute of Secrecy or some aspect of the Official Secrets Act.”

She dropped her role to answer him. “Quite so. I was able to get by with a diversion that time. I mentioned deciding against a career in medicine and was able to get her talking about the importance of being able to build trust and a rapport with patients.”

He raised his eyebrows at that revelation, “You’re good. I would never have thought of that.”

“Thanks,” she said softly. “I don’t think it would work again, but I don’t really see her so it hasn’t been an issue until this.”

“Well, I am glad it’s you with me, but I’m sure you would have thought of something,” he encouraged. 

“Maybe,” she seemed unconvinced. “As tired as I was last time I met her, our Dolohov arrest had me feeling triumphant.” She chuckled, “Everything may not have gone perfectly to plan, but we still caught him wandless and with his pants down around his ankles. As discouraging as this case has been…” she trailed off, and he filled in the gaps.

“We’re going to catch them, Hermione,” he reassured her. “They’ve already slipped up a few times. The samples from our Cardiff raid gave St. Mungos the chance to craft a way to reverse an overdose. When I spoke to Andromeda this morning, she felt sure that they were only a few weeks away from being able to diagnose muggle toxicity with a simple blood test.”

She nodded but seemed unconvinced. “I know we’ll catch them eventually, Harry,” she replied. “But how many people will die before we bring them all down? Based on what we know about the toxic build up, there could be dozens of muggle users out there that are one party away from dying of this stuff. And that Cardiff raid was hardly a success. We got product and equipment, but they vanished all their notes and escaped before we even broke through the wards.”

Her discouraged tone made his heart ache with old memories. He reached over and rested his hand, palm up, on the center console. “We’re going to catch them, Hermione,” he repeated firmly. “And we’re going to save lives.” She shot him a weak smile and rested her hand in his. As they continued down the road in silence, he felt grateful that she was by his side.

* * *

An hour after pulling away from Grimmauld Place, Hermione pulled into a dreary car park in Whitstable. There was only one other car in the lot, and beside it, Harry recognized the posture of two officers on official business. “That looks like our local contacts,” he pointed out as she parked.

“Quite so,” she nodded toward the bag at his feet. “Do you have enough to share with our new friends?”

He smiled back, “Of course. Nothing like a warm drink and biscuits to smooth over the tension of invading their space and dragging people out on Christmas Eve.”

“Agreed,” she said and got out of the car. He tucked the thermoses under one arm and quickly duplicated the two cups before tucking his wand away. He closed the door firmly and followed his friend.

“Good Evening,” the man stepped forward and offered his hand to shake. “I’m Detective Sargent Rodney Smith, and this is Detective Constable Elizabeth Creevey.” He pulled out his identification with his other hand and passed it over to Hermione. Harry kept an eye on the woman behind him. Her familiar name intrigued him.

“Pleased to meet you both,” she replied as she shook his hand quickly. She showed her own identification after verifying his. “I’m Specialist Hermione Granger, and this is Specialist Harry Potter with MI5.”

Harry was rewarded for his attention when he saw DC Creevey’s eyes widen as she heard their names. He gave her a gentle smile and addressed her. “Hermione and I went to school with a few Creevey boys. Are you any relation to Colin and Dennis?”

She nodded, “I’m their older sister… well… half sister I guess is more correct.”

He felt sad, as he always did when he met the families of Death Eater victims. “I hope you’ll accept my condolences. Colin was a good person, and his death was a terrible loss.”

DC Creevey blinked hard at his words. “Thank you,” she told him. “He really looked up to you.” She glanced over where Hermione was listening solemnly. “He looked up to you both.”

DS Smith had been standing a little apart while they talked, but he addressed his companion gently, “Creevey, do you need a few minutes?”

“No, sir,” she shook her head for emphasis. “My brother’s death was years ago. I’ll be alright to continue.” Despite her assurances, Harry moved slowly as he set out the thermoses on the hood of the sedan and poured cups of steaming coffee for each of them. It gave them all a moment to revert back to their official mindsets.

“So,” DS “call me Rod” Smith stopped to take a sip of his coffee. “What has MI5 looking into a few local toughs in Whitstable?”

“Are you familiar with the drug, Angel Kisses?” Hermione asked him briskly. 

“Only what I’ve heard from bulletins out of Maidstone,” he admitted. “Whitstable’s not much of a party town so we’ve not really seen it. Some sort of MDMA variant, right?”

“Of a sort,” she agreed, “but it’s got some highly toxic and addictive additives that make it particularly dangerous to repeat users. MI5 is investigating the ring because we suspect connections to the remnants of a domestic terrorist group that was broken up in ‘98.”

Their cover would normally have been good enough, but Creevey was just as sharp as her brothers. “Yaxley,” she nearly spat the name out.

“We don’t know that,” Harry quickly replied in hopes of keeping them on track. 

“Maybe you don’t,” she told him and turned to open the door of her car. She pulled out a file folder and passed it to him. “A man fitting Corban Yaxley’s description was caught on CCTV at Canterbury East Station buying a ticket to Whitstable this morning. I had intended to check it out this evening when we were notified that MI5 needed a liaison to check out a lead.”

He opened the file and saw Yaxley in a grainy still. He had been caught mid-sneer while accepting his ticket from the muggle at the window. He cast a worried look to Hermione. “It certainly looks like him. We need to call it in.”

Rod held out his hand for the file. “Who’s Yaxley?” he asked briskly as he flipped through the scant file contents.

“He’s a fugitive, a dangerous one,” Harry answered flatly. “He’s wanted for the murder of 5 people and a person of interest in the disappearance of 3 more. Colin Creevey was one of his victims.” He looked over at Elizabeth as she stood stiffly and waited for her superior’s reaction. “And that’s why the both of you are going to go back to the police station to coordinate for us. We’ll take a look around, and, when fellow members of our task force arrive, we’ll move on Yaxley.”

To his surprise, it was Hermione that shook her head. “That won’t work this time, Harry,” she asserted firmly. “We don’t have anyone on the task force that knows this town, and, even if we did, it would take too long to get a plan together for that sort of strike. This is the best lead we’ve had since Cardiff, and we can’t take the chance they’ll slip away again.”

Anxiety flooded him. He looked over at his companions as his heart slammed against the wall of his chest. “This isn’t what they signed on for, Hermione. They’re local investigators not -” he cut himself off before he said ‘Hit Wizards.’ The unsaid phrase gave him another argument, “We can’t fully read them in on the situation. Surely you don’t think we can take them in blind with us?” He knew it was a weak argument, and she called him on it.

“DS Smith, should you agree to participate in our actions tonight, you will be going up against a terrorist and murderer with nothing to lose. In briefing you, we will be informing you of things that are considered highly sensitive and subject to the Official Secrets Act.” She looked at the older man sternly. “You will be asked to keep that information from your superiors, your colleagues, your family and your friends. If you can’t do that, you’re welcome to coordinate from the station.”

Elizabeth spoke up, “I notice you’re not giving me that speech or that option.”

When she flicked her gaze from Hermione to him, he saw it. “You and your brothers have the same eyes.” Unlike when people said things like that to him, it was not reference to their color. Instead, he recognized the firm stubbornness of Colin and the mulish determination of Dennis. Those Creevey eyes were unblinking as they stared into his. He forced his worries back behind a wall of professionalism, but before he closed them off entirely, he told her, “You’ll keep your head down and do as we say. I’ll not have Yaxley steal another life. Understood?” She nodded, and he leaned back against Hermione’s car to let her finish her talk with the DS.

“I understand the importance of secrets,” the man said as he sipped the last of his coffee. “I was in RAF for a decade.” He met Hermione’s eyes, “and that’s why I need to know who’s supposed to be leading this operation. Seems to me that you two don’t really know which of you is in charge.”

“Harry and I are partners, and we each have our strengths,” she said matter of factly. “While we’re gathering intel and evidence for the case, I’m on point. That will be our primary goal this evening, however, there is too much at stake to allow these individuals to escape. If we attempt to engage and apprehend them, we’ll follow Harry’s lead.”

He nodded, “Alright, I’m in.”

“Mark the time, and ensure our privacy” she instructed Harry. It was their prearranged signal for working with locals. He promptly clicked a subtle button on the side of his watch. After that, he flicked his wand into his hand and subtly cast a series of revealing spells. When he nodded to her, she continued, “DS Smith, Mr. Yaxley and his associates have access to highly lethal energy weapons and other technology that renders them extremely dangerous. We don’t have time for me to go into the specifics, but, should we move to apprehend anyone this evening, you will need to consider any flash of light or other sharp movements as direct threats to you life.”

While she gave him that speech, Harry pulled out his modified mobile and sent a message to the only other person in their department working that night. Before the DS could start asking for clarification, a trunk of gear appeared between them on the ground. His mouth gaped open, and DC Creevey bit back a smirk. 

He reached for the lid and began pulling out spell resistant body armor for the four of them. As he passed it out to their new companions, the man finally sputtered, “That was teleportation? MI5 has teleportation?”

Hermione grinned broadly, and her face glowed with it. “You see what I mean about technology?”

“Wait, you mean this Yaxley bloke has teleportation, too?” His voice filled with dread. 

“Sort of,” she answered. “We can block it, if we know the location.” She pulled out a set of black pucks. “These will create a perimeter, an anti-teleportation fence, if you like.”

“So, if you can teleport,” he spoke slowly, obviously starting the think past his shock. “Why not get your team to teleport down here? Why do it this way?”

Harry snorted a laugh, “At 10:30 on Christmas Eve? Sure, I’ll call them up. ‘Sober up and kiss the family goodnight. We’re going to try and pull off a 20 person raid with no intel and no notice.’” He shook his head, “The four of us are more nimble. If we come up on anything we can’t handle, we’ll pull out and regroup.” He looped a lanyard around his neck and showed them the button that would activate the portkey. “These are cued with the perimeter. They’re the only things beside your feet that can get you out of our little fence once we set it.”

“Where will it put us?” Creevey asked as she took hers. 

“MI5 HQ,” he told her. “Specifically, a holding cell. That way, if anyone else gets it from you, there’s only one place they’ll end up.” At the bottom of the trunk, he frowned at the missing vial from the potion kit, but, a few steps away, he saw a flash of crystal go into his bag from home. 

He took a minute to put on his own protective gear but kept explaining. “Once we’ve suited up, we’ll dole out the weapons and head to the port. You’ll each have a tranquilizer gun, but this isn’t the telly. The darts will slow down anyone you shoot, but it’s not instantaneous. Ideally, we’ll get some intel and be able to come back with a larger force, but, if there’s any indication that they’ll be moving tonight, we’ll arrest anyone we can. Understood?”

As they nodded briskly, Hermione stepped back over with the Thermos. “Just enough coffee for another cup each,” she announced as she poured them all a measure of the steaming liquid. 

* * *

The chilly wind whipped up off the water and blew salt spray onto Harry’s glasses. He kept a careful eye on Hermione as they followed the local officers past the shuttered shops and restaurants. The Harbour was eerily still with the docked boats bobbing like seafaring ghosts in the lapping waves. The drugs were supposed to have come in that morning, and their prey would be dividing it for distribution that night.

They may not know much, but they had a container number. As they approached the rows of steal boxes, his heart sunk. Each number started off looking right, _SDEF; ZFDZ; WKLK_ , but none of them had the last five characters. He waved a hand to circle them up. “Alright, the container number we have from the message was ZFDB31254 - WFH14, but none of the ones I see have a number like that,” he whispered urgently. “Could there be another group of containers in the Harbour?”

Rod shook his head, “This is it. The Harbour is expanding a bit, but this is the only place for now.” He frowned in thought. “You said you intercepted this message in a sort of shorthand. What if there’s more than one number in that sequence?”

The suggestion seemed plausible. “Good thought,” Hermione told him. “Let’s look for ZFDB31254. That seems to match the format of the containers we’ve seen so far. If we find it, we’ll let Harry scan for occupants. With luck, we’ll be able to trap them inside.”

Two rows down, the number almost shined like a beacon in the night. The door was partially open with a lamp pointed into the box. The glaring light would make it impossible for anyone to see them approach in the dark. Harry grinned when he saw that it was attached to an electrical cord that wound its way off into the distance. The idea of former Death Eaters working with Muggles always amused him, but tonight it would make their job even easier.

A quick hominen revelo showed two people inside. He held up two fingers in a silent signal and motioned Hermione to take Elizabeth around the other side of the steel box. He and Rod quietly approached to one side of the partially open door. He could hear voices from inside.

“Don’t know why that fancy toff gets to put his feet up while we do all the real work,” a male voice griped. “Just cause he knows the buyers don’t make him more important than the rest of us.”

“Sure it does, Jet,” a female voice replied. “All the product in the world don’t do no good if we can’t sell it.”

“I could sell it, Mol,” he argued. “Got a mate in Canterbury what’s pulling together a big New Year’s bash. Bet he’d pay plenty to get hold of enough Angel to fly all his little patrons.”

“D’you mean Nigel?” she scoffed. “He’ll barely get a hundred kiddies to that little do. There’s no way he would need more than a box of Angel for it.”

Harry vaguely heard the hiss of spray paint from Hermione’s side of the container. He kept his ears open and prepared for her signal. The locals inside kept up their chatter. “I think we’ll be done with all this in about an hour, Jet,” the woman announced. “Then we can go find Mr. Fancy, maybe have a gander at the inside of the store he’s in. By morning, we’ll be quit of him with a nice Christmas bonus to show for it.”

Rod tapped him on the arm to get his attention. With a frantic hand wave, he seemed to indicate that they had what they needed. Harry hoped he was right. They stood for another moment until a feather floated down onto them from over the container. _Hermione’s signal,_ he nodded to his companion. 

He severed the cord powering their lamp as the other man slammed the container door closed. The two inside shouted, but they were quickly locked in. His heart was pumping, but he slowly breathed in and out to dissipate the adrenaline. 

The four of them stood off to one side of the container to check in. “You said we had what we needed?” Harry asked urgently. 

“Yeah,” DI Smith nodded with a wide smile. “The ‘fancy toff’ they were complaining about? They said he was in the store. Its what the locals call a group of huts that get rented out to tourists. That’s what the WFH14 is. It’s his bloody hut number!”

They all shared his elated grin, and Hermione moved off for a moment. He knew that she was activating the locking and stasis runes she had tagged onto the side of the container. That inventory would never make it into the hands of users. The Unspeakables working with them would collect the whole thing by morning.

It took a few minutes to get to the other side of the Harbour, but when he saw their target, he knew their luck was holding. Hut #14 was off away from the others and had no adjoining structures. It was a perfect scenario for their anti-apparition perimeter. 

He and Hermione split up again, and he took two of the pucks to set at the corners of the building. Lights flickered from the high window, and he kept an eye out for any sign that Yaxley was on alert. The approach was hardly ideal. Without any side or rear entrances, they risked getting spotted as they burst through the door. 

They reconnected out of sight and earshot of the hut. “Alright, I think I know our best chance, but it’s going to be risky.” He looked over at his muggle colleagues. “Rod and Elizabeth, you’ll need to cover the entrances. It looks like there’s two people inside. Hermoine and I will get close and try to hear any discussion. If it sounds like they’re trying to get out of town tonight, I’ll set a delayed charge at the back wall. Nothing too destructive, but it’ll make some noise.” In his head, he sent George a thank you for modifying his ‘Flash Bangs’ for MMLELO.

“Hermione, I want you to use my cloak and go in at the balcony,” he saw her frown and suspected that she knew he was putting her safety above his own. He quickly made his case. “You’ll be able to verify our hunch before we ruin some couple’s romantic seaside Christmas. If it’s Yaxley, you’ll be in position to sneak in and take out whoever else is in there with him.” 

“And what will you be doing?” she asked with an unhappy tone. 

“If we’re right, I’ll go in through the front door. If I can do it stealthily, I will. Otherwise, I’ll set off the Flash Bangs and take advantage of the chaos,” he smiled at her in hopes that his plan would relieve her worries. 

Instead, she remarked, “I just hope our luck will hold.”

Suddenly, he knew what had her concerned. She had slipped them all Felix Felicis in the car park with their coffee. He checked his watch. _That was over an hour ago,_ he realized. _That’s cutting it close. We need to move quickly._

He met her browns eyes and nodded, but the DS still had questions. “Wouldn’t we be better off going in together if we’re going? There’s only two entrances to cover, and they can’t teleport out, right?”

“They can move short range,” Hermione informed them. “We found we had to design the perimeters that way to prevent being detected too early. It’s too dangerous for anyone without experience in this sort of raid.” 

The older man seemed unhappy about it, but he took her at her word. Quickly, they began to point and quietly direct Rod and Elizabeth to key locations. Armed with MMLELO Tazers and Tranquilizer guns, they would be the second perimeter. If Yaxley got to the edge of the anti-apparition ward, they would work to take him down and portkey him out. “Just make sure you have good hold of him before you push the button, and keep hold of him until the world stops spinning,” Harry warned. 

He and Hermione waited up against the hut wall until their counterparts were tucked into the shadows at the far corners of the hut. Then, she cast a silencing spell at the far corner of the balcony. She squeezed his hand and whispered, “Be careful.” 

“You too,” he murmured and draped his cloak around her. With a shimmy to adjust it on her shoulders, she pulled the hood up and disappeared. 

Her crack of apparition was drowned out by the waves, but somehow he knew when she was gone. He disillusioned himself. With a frown at the hard ground, he cast silencing spells on his shoes and his path to the door. 

He made his way to the front of the hut. The glass door made it easy to see inside just as Yaxley came into view. Harry focused on a stack of plates on the open shelf below the sink. A modified switching spell put the Flash Bang in place. _That door must lead to the stairs,_ he thought. 

Their quarry seemed to shout something behind him, then he moved for the tray of glasses and a bottle of whiskey. _Idiot,_ Harry thought. _Drinking during an operation? What sort of fool thinks that’s a good idea?_

He watched as the former Death Eater poured two glasses of Ogdens and wished for a way to warn Hermione that there was another wizard on premises. His heart started to beat faster. _I need to hear,_ he decided. He stuck the latest model extendable ear up against a lower pane of glass. 

He tucked the other piece of the device into his ear and heard them. “C’mon Morty,” Yaxley called. “Those two idiots will be here in an hour or two. Then, we’ll call your driver. There’s no need to go out and check their progress. They’re too stupid to get grabby with the merchandise.”

The other person came into view, and Harry rethought his assessment. He had a handgun in a holster on his hip. Suddenly anxious, he knew that they were facing an experienced muggle criminal. He glanced above him at the balcony where Hermione hid. _Not only are they planning on being out of here before dawn, this bloke’s driver isn’t likely to be anyone we want to meet._

Yaxley sat on the sofa, but his accomplice stood opposite him and leaned against the wall. Harry cast a revealing spell and saw that Hermione was approaching the stairs. The only way for him to get past the door with an element of surprise was to apparate. He wished for a little more liquid luck as he palmed the grip of his tranquilizer gun. Inspired, he drew his wand instead. 

Another modified switching spell put the contents of a dart into each of their glasses. He listened and waited for them to finish their drinks. To his frustration, neither man hurried. “I think we should cut our losses with Mol and Jet after tonight,” Morty announced. 

“Why?” Yaxley protested taking a deep sip of his drink. “It’s easy enough to obliviate them. Then we don’t have to deal with disposing of a body or answering questions about missing persons.”

“Don’t you think they’re going to realize that they’ve got gaps in their memory?” the other man pointed out. “They’re off in a container in the cold on Christmas Eve. Even those two have people that will ask questions.”

When the man only frowned and took another deep swig of his drink, his accomplice rolled his eyes. “I never thought you would be so touchy about killing someone.” He pointed a finger at Yaxley, “Look, it’s easy enough. We’re clearing out of Whitstable after this shipment. This place is rented for a week. When they get here, we’ll dose them up on Angel. You can work your magic to get Jet to off Mol then himself. Then it’ll just be a Murder/Suicide. Nothing to point at anything else.”

Finally, he took a sip of his whiskey. He frowned at the glass. Instinctively, Harry knew something was wrong. Morty looked across at Yaxley. “Unless you think we should just take ‘em out another way? Maybe wipe their minds so they end up drooling and dump ‘em in a boat? A little push to send ‘em out to sea, and they’re bound to drown or freeze. Just a tragic accident…”

Even though he kept talking, Harry knew that he was onto the drug in the whiskey. _How?_ he thought incredulously. _That stuff’s designed to be take the flavor of anything it’s in._ Just as quickly, he dismissed that thought as one for another day. The how mattered less than moving to take them while he still had some element of surprise. 

He loaded another dart into his gun and cast a silencing spell just opposite the glass door. He popped across the barrier and immediately fired a dart into his muggle quarry. Yaxley shouted and dove for his wand. He blew his Flash Bang to disorient the men, but it only half worked.

“You fucking idiot!” the muggle shouted as he pulled the dart from his arm. He drew his pistol.

Harry ducked and weaved in the narrow space. He cast disarming spells at both men, but nothing hit. From the stairs, he thought something moved, but he was too busy fending off wild spellfire. 

Oddly, the muggle barricaded himself behind the door to the stairwell. Though he had his gun, he failed to fire a shot. Neither he or Yaxley had time to wonder why. 

Suddenly, a stunner fired from nowhere and took down his foe. The stairwell door exploded into splinters. Hermione dropped the cloak as she rushed the muggle. He fired off a shot. 

The world seemed to slow around him. A red stunner flew from his wand. A black and brown figure dove to the floor. The muggle flew backwards. His head bounced off the wall.

Harry stayed still as time tried to catch up to him. Their foes were down. The room fell nearly silent. All he could hear was his breath rushing in and out of his lungs. 

Finally, a soft voice called out, “Harry, are you ok?” With that question, he had permission to live again.

* * *

MI5 holding cells were quite secure, but the Magical/Muggle Law Enforcement Liaison Office had designed special ones just for magical criminals and terrorists. That was where Yaxley would wake up in the morning. Harry walked away from them with a tired nod to the guard on duty. 

Hermione, Elizabeth and Rod awaited him at his desk. “We’ve got the memories filed,” his old friend told him. “Goldstein is going to side-along Rod and Elizabeth back to Whitstable and drive my car back.” She yawned behind her hand. “I’ve already accepted that I’m tired enough to splinch if I try.”

He held out his hand to the two local cops. “You two alright with that plan?”

Elizabeth answered for them both, “It’s not the most pleasant way to travel, but anything that gets me to a bed and some sleep before dawn is brilliant.”

The thought of splinching made him realize that he was better off taking a taxi home. “Hermione, I don’t know that we’ll be able to get two cabs tonight. If I call one to share, do you want to head for you parent’s first?” As she nodded, he realized that her curls had pulled free of her braid at some point. They bounced a little at her agreement. 

Once they had settled into the backseat of the car, he let himself stare at Hermione’s profile. She confirmed her parents’ address and leaned back against the seat. Almost instantly, she dozed off. 

Harry smiled fondly. As active as her mind was, people would have assumed she struggled to sleep. Instead, she seemed to wear out her mind each day. Her head dropped backward, and she choked out a snore. 

Carefully, he pulled her over his way. Her breathing cleared as she slept against his shoulder. He tucked his head against hers and tried to close his own eyes. 

They sprang open again as the sight of a bullet splintering a doorframe replayed behind his lids. _You could have died tonight,_ he thought at her. Even that blunt fact failed to help him reconcile the reality of her warm presence beside him with the possibility of a world without her. Unable to make sense of the nightmare that almost happened, he stared out the cab window until they came to a stop in a posh London neighborhood. 

He recognized the house and reflexively pulled out cash for the cabbie. “You need any help with your lady friend?” the man asked. Without giving any thought to the assumption, Harry declined. He thought there was something he needed to tell the man, but he was too tired to think of it. Carefully, he got himself out of the car. While he could have woken Hermione, she looked too peaceful to disturb. 

Instead, he lifted her gently. To his surprise, he needed no magic to balance her weight. With her head on his shoulder, he braced her back against his left forearm and her bent knees into the crook of his right elbow. The walk was well maintained which helped him immensely.

Behind him, he heard the taxi pull away. Before him, the gently lit door beckoned. He adjusted her legs so he could bump the doorbell with his finger. The thought that the Grangers would normally be asleep only occurred to him as he heard the lock thrown from the other side.

“Harry?” Roger Granger asked while blinking at him from the dark entry. “Is everything alright?”

He nodded, “We’re ok. Hermione fell asleep on the way here.” He kept his voice low and stepped forward into the warm house.

Her father smiled tenderly at her. “I’m sure you’re both exhausted. Do you need help getting her into the guest room?”

“Lead the way,” he whispered. “I have her.” He chose not to analyze why he was so reluctant to let her go at that moment.

Ellen Granger hovered at the hall near the stairs and moved ahead of them to open the door to their small guest room. She pulled back the covers and tugged off Hermione’s shoes. Harry lowered her to mattress so that her head rested on the pillow. 

“I’ll get her settled the rest of the way Harry,” her mum assured him. “Why don’t you let Roger make you a cup of tea?” He smiled weakly at the suggestion. Even though he knew she was safe, it hurt to let Hermione out of his sight. 

Reluctantly, he followed the other man to the kitchen. As he lifted down the kettle, he realized that Kreacher would be worried about him. He drew the chaotic tendrils of his magic to him and called. As the elf popped in to he room, Roger jumped in surprise.

“Master is well,” the wizened old elf observed. “Mistress Hermione is well?”

He nodded, “She fell asleep on the way here. We’re both ok.” 

“Humph,” he grunted. With a snap of his bony fingers, two hot cups of tea appeared before them. “Hardly a proper Yuletide. Master takes the Mistress off to nowhere and comes back stinking of Weasley bombs and sea air.” He seemed to classify the two aromas equally.

He sipped his tea and smirked faintly at the taste of chamomile that failed to hide the Dreamless Sleep the elf had added. He watched the steam drift upward to keep from meeting the eyes of a worried father. Avoidance never worked with Hermione, and he should have realized that she learned that from her parents.

“Harry, tell me what happened tonight,” Roger instructed firmly. “I’d like to think I’ve gotten to know you rather well in the past few years, and I’ve never seen you like this.” When he only shook his head, the man tried again. “I know that what you and Hermione do is secretive and dangerous. Whatever happened tonight shook you. You’ll feel better if you talk about it.”

He took a deep sip of tea and looked back and forth between Roger and Kreacher. As Ellen entered the room, he finally spoke. “We got lucky tonight,” he admitted. “If Hermione had been a little slower or the man she arrested a little faster…” Finally he looked up. His silence and haunted eyes told the rest of his story. He stood up and drained the last of tea. “Do you mind if I sit with her for a few minutes before Kreacher and I head home?” 

When no one refused, he made his way back to the guest room and sat in the little wingback chair. He watched her chest rise and fall for several minutes until his chin dropped to his chest. Her face was the last sight before his eyes as he fell asleep.

* * *

December 25, 2005

The sun shined through the wrong window as Hermione came awake. She rubbed her stray hairs from her nose and blinked sleepily. _Mum and Dad’s? I don’t remember getting here,_ she realized. She started to stretch and impacted a warm back beside her. To her surprise, Harry lay next to her on her parent’s guest bed. 

She lifted the covers gently and found that they were both in matching pinstripe pajamas. _I don’t own pinstripe pajamas,_ she started to snort a laugh at that thought. _I don’t own pajamas!_ Quickly she clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from disturbing her bed mate. 

Finally, the memories from the night before clarified in her mind. The sounds and smells of the raid returned first. _I think I’ll add a few surprise muggles in the next MMLELO training exercise I design,_ she decided. _It’s one thing to describe the speed and noise of a bullet to a trainee, but it’s something else to have them face it._ Most UK law enforcement never faced down a criminal with a gun, but MI5 was starting to hear more about domestic terrorists and organized crime syndicates smuggling firearms in from the US.

When her mind tried to begin planning Yaxley’s interrogation, she forced herself to shut off work. The pajamas and Harry's presence beside her were a more immediate and pleasant puzzle. _I remember deciding to share a cab,_ she looked back at him as he rolled over onto his back. With his startling green eyes hidden behind his lashes, she could appreciate the contrast of his thick black lashes against his cheeks. Through his porcelain skin, his jawline showed a dark shadow of stubble.

As she had a few times before, she declared it terribly unfair that he could look that pretty after a difficult night. Careful to keep from waking him, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and tiptoed from the room. In the hall, she followed the sound of voices into the kitchen.

To her surprise, Kreacher busily popped around the room as her mother explained the electric ignitors on the cooker and the temperature regulation of the refrigerator. Her arrival interrupted their conversation, “Mistress Hermione. Is get you some tea.”

A chair slid out for her, and she smiled at the old elf as she sat next to her father at the table. “Mum, why are we all wearing matching pajamas?” she asked as the sight brought back her confusion over the pinstripe bedclothes.

“It be a muggle Yule tradition, Mistress,” Kreacher frowned at her. “We be in a muggle home for Yule.” He seemed to see that his explanation did not resolve her confusion and, with a snap of his fingers, a mail order catalog appeared before her. The smiling family on the cover were all lounging around a Christmas tree in matching pinstripe pajamas.

“Well, I think they’re charming,” her mum asserted with a grin. “Once Harry gets up, we can have breakfast and then open presents.”

Subtly, she rubbed the soft cotton of her sleeve between her fingers. “They’re very nice, Kreacher,” she assured him. “Did you have to duplicate them to have four sets?” In the back of her mind, she imagined three of them suddenly standing in their small clothes as the duplication spell faded. 

He might have read her mind based on the grumpy look he shot her. “No, Mistress. Kreacher used Master Harry’s sets and changed colors to match. Mistress was already asleep so Is couldn’t alters them to fit.” He popped to the other end of the kitchen and levitated a tray of cinnamon rolls from the oven. 

“Well, I appreciate it Kreacher,” she said in a conciliatory tone. “I’m sure I wouldn’t have slept so well in my normal clothes.” She shifted her gaze to her mum. “I don’t remember getting here last night. I suppose I fell asleep in the taxi?”

Her mother gave her a doting look. “Harry carried you, and we got you to bed. When he fell asleep in the chair, Kreacher swapped both your clothes and put him in the bed next to you.” She sounding a little sly when she added, “I didn’t think you’d mind the company.” Behind his book, her father smirked.

She knew she was outnumbered and quickly finished her tea. “I’m going to pop over to my flat and get your gifts before breakfast.” She heard her parent’s chuckle as she left the room.

In the living room of her tidy flat, she gathered the wrapped gifts that she had subconsciously stacked in the shape of a Christmas tree. _I wonder if Harry put anything out for Yule or Christmas this year?_ She laughed a little at herself. _Seems that I forgot to leave thoughts of him behind when I ran away._

Her parents had made no secret of the fact that they hoped for her and Harry to date. They had quickly got attached to him when he went with her to retrieve them from Australia. _Not that any of us were in the right frame of mind for romance after the Battle at Hogwarts,_ she sighed sadly as she remembered Fred. 

She waved her wand, and a change of clothes folded itself up and went into her bottomless bag. She went into her loo to brush her teeth and wash her face. In the mirror, she saw that the pinstripe men’s pajamas actually looked a bit charming even though they were too big for her. She cast a charm to braid her hair while she finished her brief hygiene rituals. 

A few minutes later, she added the gifts to her bag along with her favorite pair of warm socks. When she popped back to her parents, Harry was sitting at the table sipping tea and chatting with her dad. He looked up and gave her a crooked little smile that made her heart skip a beat.

“Morning, Harry,” she greeted casually. By this point, she was used to pretending that his handsomeness had no affect on her. “Sleep well?”

He flushed a little, “Yes, uh… thanks for sharing.” He cleared his throat. “Kreacher and I will let you three enjoy your Christmas morning.” He took a deep drink of his tea, clearly intending to rush off.

“Nonsense,” her mum protested. “We can hardly send you two on your way when Kreacher went to all the trouble of making breakfast for us.” She took hold of the kettle and poured him more tea. “In fact, we would love it if you would both spend Christmas day here with us. Kreacher was telling me all about the big Yule gatherings he remembers, and I hate the idea of the two of you rattling around in that big townhouse.”

Harry still seemed inclined to protest, but her father spoke up. “Give in, son. You know by now that there’s no winning a fight once these Granger women make up their mind.” His tone said that he agreed with his wife on keeping their Christmas guests for the day’s festivities.

She grinned mischievously at her best friend, “You’ve got three Grangers voting to keep you here for the day. Unless you had other plans, you’re rather outnumbered.”

“Well, Kreacher,” he sounded ready to give in as he looked over at his house elf. “What do you think?”

He snapped his fingers and a plate full of warm cinnamon rolls appeared on the table. “I thinks that Mistress Hermione should gets whatever she wants on Yule,” he said decisively. Paired with her silly thoughts from earlier, his statement struck her as suggestive. She fought off a blush and reached for her tea. 

To her surprise, the four of them demolished the batch of cinnamon rolls in short order. Her, normally sugar averse, parents eagerly ate the rich pastries, and the four of them kept up a lively conversation while Kreacher popped busily around the kitchen. Even after the food was gone, they lingered around the table happily chatting. 

Her dad was the first to rise and stretch. “Alright! Time for presents!” he grinned at her. “Announcing that used to be your job, you know. I think it sounded better that way.” He pressed a light kiss to her braided curls. “You used to giggle and clap. That’s something I can’t pull off.”

She rolled her eyes, “No adult can pull that off without seeming foolish, Dad.” Obediently, she rose from the table. She started to gather the dishes, but Kreacher snapped his fingers and had them washing themselves at the sink. She stuck out her tongue at him and heard Harry laugh beside her. “I’ll go get the gifts from my bag and see you in the sitting room,” she told her parents.

From the guest room, she heard her mother exclaim something and her father laugh. The happy sounds filled her with joy and finally lifted the remaining shadows from the unanswered questions on their case. _At least for today, I can set it aside and enjoy,_ she assured herself as she grabbed the stack of gifts and sent them ahead of her down the hall.

Suddenly she knew what had gotten her parent’s laughing. A large sprig of mistletoe dangled from the door frame into the sitting room. Her dad, ever the romantic, swept her mother into his arms and gave her a dramatic kiss. Her mum giggled as he pulled away, twirled her, and pulled her back for another kiss like a scene from the end of a romantic movie. 

Their antics would normally have delighted her, but she spotted Harry looking up at the mistletoe nervously. She bit back a disappointed sigh and made up her mind to accept a kiss on the cheek without comment. _This is hardly a good reason to ruin our Christmas Day,_ she pointed out to herself.

Mind made up, she moved to intercept him in the hall. “Alright, you two lovebirds,” she teased her parents. “You’re blocking the only entrance to the room and keeping me from my Christmas gifts.”

Her father stuck out his tongue at her with a laugh. “Spoilsport.”

When they moved past, she stepped under the mistletoe and felt a tingle of anticipation. Harry stood in front of her and looked down at her thoughtfully. Something sparked in his eyes for a moment before he hid it, and he pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. 

“Boo!” her father jeered. “Come on, you two! Surely you can do better than that!”

She felt her face flush with embarrassment, and she wanted to hex her dad in that moment. Instead of sharing her dismay, Harry stood a little straighter. Everything in his posture and expression spoke of resolve in a way that did not match their silly situation. She creased her brows in confusion.

His warm hand settled at her waist, and his vivid green eyes stared into hers. The rest of the world faded into insignificance, and all she could focus on were his lips coming towards hers. He hesitated before he reached his goal and her patience ran out. She wrapped her arms around his neck and dragged him the rest of the way.

He met her kiss with an enthusiasm that surprised her. Suddenly, she was tasting cinnamon, tea and something indefinably him as their tongues met. She hummed with delight and pressed closer. 

Their surroundings and audience were forgotten until a bright flash of light went off beside them. They startled, and Harry tried to spring away. Unwilling to release him from her embrace, she held tight and stumbled forward with him. His lean frame caught her weight, and she gazed into his eyes. Another camera flash broke the moment.

“Dad!” she complained. 

He waved the camera smugly, “This is going in your mother’s scrapbook under the caption, ‘It’s about time!’”

She felt her cheeks turn red, but she stayed in warmth of Harry’s arms. Her mum came to their rescue. “That’s enough teasing Roger. Let’s get settled and open gifts.”

Reluctantly, Hermione moved toward the sofa with Harry trailing her. She sat and quickly looked up to ensure that he would sit with her. After that kiss, she was suddenly nervous that he would regret it or flee. Her fears must has showed on her face because he perched on the cushion beside her with a tentative look. 

When he offered his hand palm up, she promptly took it and laced her fingers with his. Despite the unsettled questions between them, she felt confident that they would figure it all out. Her father passed her the first gift, and she used her free hand to pry up the tape. The Apple logo on the box told her it was an electronic device. “Nano? What?” she mumbled to herself. Unwrapping the rest of the box showed her that it was a music player. 

“Thank you!” she grinned at her parents, but couldn’t bring herself to release Harry’s hand for a hug. They stayed in that position for the rest of the gift exchange. At one point, Harry even used his free hand to help her unwrap a larger box.

After a while, her mum and dad gathered up the debris from their presents and left the room. They exchanged unsubtle glances, and she realized that they intended to give them time to talk. A part of her dreaded it as though reality were an unwelcome guest.

Harry broke the silence, “Hermione, I have something I need to tell you.” She tensed and opened her mouth to speak. “Please,” he insisted, “I need to say this.” Nervous, she closed her mouth and tried to remember to breath. “Hermione, I, uh,” her glanced down at their hands, still laced together. “Last night, I almost lost you. If that muggle had been a little faster, or you had moved a little slower…” he trailed off. When his eyes met hers, they were bright with emotion. “I realized last night that a world without you in it is not a world I want to live in. You -” he choked briefly and swallowed. “You make every day better, just by being in it. I don't know what I would do without you.”

She lifted her free hand cupped his jaw. The bristles from his unshaven face tickled her hand. Somehow, it made the moment feel real, and she knew how to reply. “I love you, too.” This time, when he leaned in for a kiss, he met her lips with no hesitation. 

He pressed a warm hand to the small of her back to pull her closer and deepened the kiss. She hummed happily and slid her hand up to tangle in his hair. From another room, she could hear her parents and Kreacher working on the mid-day meal, but she had all she needed with Harry in her arms.


End file.
